Later that night, I sat quietly at the dinner table. Catrina was still not home that night. The old empty house kept me feeling cold and lonely.

‘RINGGG. RINGGG.” the phone buzzed.

“Hello. This is John.”

All I could hear was breathing in the background.

“ Is Catrina there? We need to talk business.” the voice was deep and very breathy. The only thing I could think about was when he said he wanted to talk ‘business’.

“Uh… Catrina’s not here right now. May I take a message?” There was a long held pause. Almost like he was afraid to say the wrong thing.

The voice finally let out a message. “Just let her know we need to talk.’ The phone hung up. And with that the conversation was over.

A flood of shock and suspicion filled my face. Who was my girlfriend associating with, and what ‘business’ was the man talking about?”

There was a slam at the door. “Hey John. How was your day? Sorry I’m home late. It got really busy at the office.” Catrina laid her things on the dinner table, and rushed upstairs.

“Somebody called today. They said they needed to speak business with you.” I said as I followed her upstairs.

Catrina stopped in her tracks. “It was probably just a telemarketer. You know how they’re always calling the house.” She turned around and looked at me with her long, worried eyes. “ Don’t worry I haven’t  talking to anyone.”
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A week later the police had been able to find Kathrine’s cell phone. This clue is a big part in the investigation. Kathrine could have possibly been in contact with her killer.

“Mr. Peterson, we were able to access Kathrine’s phone. Would you like to read some of the suspects messages?” The detective handed me the copies of Kathrine’s phone messages. “These are all the messages from whom we believe are the suspects of the case.”

I looked at all the contacts. Kevin, Ryan, Taylor, an unknown number, and Catrina. Why would they think Catrina is a suspect?

“May I please see the messages from Catrina Waters?” I asked with confusion in my eyes.

The detective handed me the pictures. I had never realized how often my sister and girlfriend talked. Many of the messages seemed normal, until I spotted an argument between Catrina and Kathrine. After I was finished reading the messages, I handed the papers back to the detective.

“We believe that catrina and Kathrine were arguing over money. We are not sure yet but we will need to bring in Catrina and ask her a couple of questions.” The detective confirmed.

I shook my head and took a business card off the table. “I’ll let you know if I see anything.” I didn’t know what money Catrina was talking about but, I had a feeling those long nights weren’t spent at the office.
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Once I got into the car, I immediately called Catrina.

“This is Catrina. Leave a message.”

“Hey this is John. When you reach this call me.’ I hung up the phone and headed straight home.
Once I reached home, I discovered that Catrina was not home, as usual. This gave me the perfect opportunity to find out what my girlfriend was into, and why her and Kathrine were arguing in the text. I threw all my stuff on the living room couch, and sprinted upstairs. The first place I thought  to look was Catrina’s dresser. I looked and looked, but still there was nothing i could use as evidence.

A couple minutes later I had managed to search the dresser, closet, and bathroom. Still I found nothing. At that point I felt discouraged and out of breath. Maybe Catina wasn’t the killer. Maybe she had nothing to do with Kathrine’s death.

I sat on my bed and took a breath. I felt like a fool. How could I have been so dumb to think that my own girlfriend would’ve killed my sister?

As I picked up the tv remote, the house phone rang.

“Hello this  is John.” I said.

There was a quiet breathy voice in the background . Much like the call I had received that previous day. “Is Catrina there? We need to talk.”

I paused. This was the same mysterious guy that called my house 2 days ago.

“Um...no I haven’t seen her. Can I take a message?” As I waited for an answer, I quickly grabbed a pen and some paper, and wrote down the phone number.

“Catrina owes me money, a lot of it. Tell her to meet me at 82nd and Pennsylvania  Avenue at 5 sharp.” The mysterious man sounded angry,

I quickly wrote down all the information about the meeting place. “ Ok. Is there a name?” I sat there hoping I get an answer.

There was a deep silence. Beep. Off was the phone. I didn’t get a name but I got plenty of information about where this guy was headed. I took the information, and headed off to the Chicago Police Department.

Once I reached the police department, the phones were as busy as a mall on Black Friday. I couldn’t help but notice everyone running like a chicken with their head cut off.

I had finally managed to reach the front desk. “Why is it so busy in here?” I asked.

The secretary gave me a worryless look. “There have been a lot of calls this morning. Is there something I can help you with?” She took a few peaks at the dirty, sticky keyboard.

“Yeah, um I was wondering if Detective Jones was in. I have some clues that will pertain to him about the Kathrine Peterson case.”
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A few minutes later Detective Jones walked out of the interrogation room. “Mr. Peterson. I heard you had something to tell me?”

I stood out of the rickety chair. “Yes, I have some information you want to hear.” I handed him the phone number and the address. “This strange man called yesterday. He’s called my house twice, saying he wanted to talk business.”

The detective glared at the number and address. “Do you know who the man was referring to?”

“He had asked to speak with Catrina Waters.” I was scared. I didn’t want to believe Catrina had anything to do with this murder.

The detective squinted his weary eyes. “Do you know Ms.Waters?”
I hesitated. “She’s my girlfriend.’

The detective looked at me in shock. “I’m surprised at you Mr. Peterson. Most victims wouldn’t admit to knowing one of the suspects.” I gulped, and held my breath. Detective Jones continued to ask me questions. “Did you, Mr.Peterson, happen to see or hear anything about this case?”

I could feel myself slowly falling into a trap. I didn’t want to get dragged into this case. Did Jones think I was in on killing my own sister? “Look Jones, all I am trying to do is find out what happened to my sister. I don’t want to believe that my own girlfriend had something to do with this case, but I won’t stop until my sister’s case is solved.”

Jones grinned at me in disbelief. “That wasn’t my question Mr.Peterson. My question was if you…”

I quickly cut off Detective Jones. “To answer your question detective,no. I do not know any further information about this case.”
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The next morning seemed like the hardest of them all. My head was pounding, my stomach was growling, and the dog next door seemed like it wouldn’t stop barking. Then to make matters worse, I rolled over to see Catrina not there. I slowly rubbed my eyes and crawled out my bed.

As I headed downstairs I paused. “What if I get caught. I can’t afford to lose my job. And what will John think.”  Catrina was crying, and all I could hear was muffling in the background.

“Ok. Ok. I got it.” Catrina sounded frustrated and nerves. She hung up the phone and headed towards the kitchen.

I creeped around the corner, and saw Catrina’s red puffy eyes. She wiped her nose and rubbed her eyes. “Oh hey John.”  She sniffled and leaned against the counter.

“Why are you crying. What’s up?” I started feeling sympathy. I hated seeing Catrina upset.

“Oh nothing’s wrong. I just got a little emotional that’s all.” I knew something was wrong, and I had a feeling that the same guy who was asking to talk to her that previous week.

“Well who was that talking on the phone. It surely wouldn’t be another telemarketer?” At this point I was fed up. When was she just going to admit who she was speaking to? What did she have to hide?

“A person called with the wrong number. That’s all it was.” Catrina sat there with a worried look on her face. She had lied to me. Right then is when all my sympathy for her was gone. She was hiding something from me. Something that had to do with KAthrine.

I was filled with anger, and ready to blow up. “Come on! Enough with the lies Catrina! Why are you so afraid to tell me who you were speaking to? I heard you talking on the phone. What would you possibly get caught for?” I asked as I finished ranting.

Once again Catrina’s eyes filled with water, and tears began to race down her red, smooth cheeks. “I’m sorry John. I can’t tell you.” She looked away.

I felt betrayed and heartbroken. “You know. After all we’ve been through, I thought you’d at least have the courage to be honest with me.” I didn’t understand, and I was still confused. I couldn’t stand to stay in the house and mope. I grabbed my car keys and jacket and headed towards the door.

Catrina came up to me and grabbed my shoulder. “I hope you can understand where I’m coming from.”

I freed my shoulder from her gentle grip with a nudge. I turned around and looked into her big sorrowful eyes. “How can I understand where you're coming from, and I don’t even know where you’ve been?” I shook my head in disbelief. What was going on with her?

A sudden pause, turned into me walking out the door. I got into my 2006 Volkswagen, drove away, and never looked back.

 About 2 hours of driving around, I decided to come home. I walked into the old, vintage house. Once again, Catrina wasn’t home. How was I supposed to trust you? As I was about to sit down and relax the phone rang. I picked up the phone and realized it was that same mysterious caller that was talking to Catrina.

“Hey man! Call my house again and I will report you to the police!” Knowing good and well I already did.

Again I heard deep breathing. A few minutes later the man hung up. I was sick. Sick of being lied to, and wondering what was going on.  I grabbed the address the man gave to me, my car keys, my jacket, and raced out the door.

On my way to the destination, I probably ran 3 stop lights, but I didn’t care. I had to get there.
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A few minutes later, I found the house. It was a nice looking house. It was made of brick and had blue shutters. It wasn’t very big, but you could tell the owner worked hard for it. The yard was nicely taken care of and the house looked freshly painted. “Hello?” Still no response. I tried twisting on the door knob. The door was unlocked, but it was stuck. I pushed all my bodyweight against the door. The door squeaked and shook, then finally it opened.

I slowly opened the brown wooden door. The inside of the house was definitely not as attractive as the outside. There was an old boxed tv in the corner of the living room, and the wallpaper was peeling and fading. All there was to sit on were a bunch of folding chairs, and there wasn’t a single picture on the wall. Although I was fully aware of the consequences of trespassing, I continued to roam the halls of the deceiving house. In the office space was a table piled high, with documents and old files. Strolling along the office i spotted a brown leather wallet. I picked it up, and saw a picture of a man, with a bald head and small yet defined eyes. Could that have been the man who was calling the house? I was curious and wanted to explore more.

I walked out of the cluttered office, then I stopped when I heard the front door open. I quickly hid in the coat closet and tried to remain calm.

“Thanks for meeting me.” It was Catrina. “John has been getting really suspicious.  I think I should tell him, I feel  really guilty.”

“No!  You will not tell him. Not until this all blows over anyways. I’m not going down with you.” I gasped. In disbelief. It was the man on the phone. “And anyways, I’ve been calling you for days, but your little boyfriend kept answering.”

Catrina huffed. “Can you just show me where it is now?” The man nodded his head and they headed towards the backyard.

I was curious of what they were talking about, but this was the only opportunity I had to run. As Catrina and the man walked outside, I jolted out the closet and sprinted to my car. I loved Catrina, and couldn’t believe she hid this from me.

I drove home extra slow that night. I wasn’t eager to get home after seeing Catrina with the guy on the phone.
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The next morning, I headed to the police station. Recently the police station has become like my second home. “Glad I get to see you again Mr. Peterson.” said Detective Jones. “We have talked to one of Kathrine’s friends. Kevin? Do you recognize that name?”

I thought for a second. The it hit me “Yes, Kevin was a guy Kathrine had been talking to for a long time. I’ve never really met him though.”

The detective handed me some papers. “Well he’s seemed to know a lot about Kathrine. As far as her personal life goes.

I was confused. Her personal life? “What do you mean?”

“Your sister has had some issues with drugs. It was in her autopsy. I’m sure you were aware?”

I shook my head in shock. “Uh no. I was not aware? She was on drugs?”  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. My sister didn’t seem like the kind of person who used drugs.

“If you have any further questions, here is Kevin’s number. I’m sure he will have all the questions.” Jone slid me a small piece of paper with a phone number on it.

The next day I met Kevin at a small coffee shop downtown. Maybe Kevin knew more about Kathrine than I thought. “So you're Kevin?” I stood up from the seat, and shook his hand.

Kevin was a bigger guy. He was about a foot taller than me, and had big broad shoulders. “Hi. Nice to finally meet you. John right?”

I nodded my head, and put a fake smile on my face. We both sat down at the wooden table. “So I was talking to the detective yesterday, and he said that Kathrine had some drug problems.”

Kevin grew a frown upon his face, and gently rubbed his nose. “Yeah she did. She always was asking for money, and she just never seemed like she wanted she had a desire for help.”

“Do you know who was giving her money?” I paused waiting for a response.

“Some women named Cat or Caroline. Maybe even Catrina.”

I gulped, and my eyes grew 2 sizes. “Did you say Catrina?”

“Yeah. She was about average height. Green eyes, brown hair.”

I knew exactly who he was talking about. Catina Waters, my girlfriend. That explained the argument her and Kathrine had in those text messages Detective Jones showed me. The argument over money.
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Two days later, I headed back to the police department to let Jones know what I found out.

“Kevin was telling me about how Kathrine was getting money from Catrina. I think that’s what that text message was about.”

The detective gave me a puzzled look. “So you're saying that your girlfriend was giving money to your sister?”

I nodded my head.

“Mr.Peterson, aren’t you seeing a pattern here? The text, the money, the phone calls, and your girlfriend just so happens to be a suspect.”
\
I knew what I was getting myself into. Catrina was a major key in this case.

“Mr,Peterson, there is one thing I’m not quite getting though. If Catrina is your girlfriend, why are you willing to give us all this information?”

I was quiet. I didn’t understand were Jones was going with this case.

“You see, an innocent person would do everything in his power not to get his girlfriend caught,”

I didn’t get it. All I was trying to do was find my sister’s killer. Was I so wrong?

The detective continued on, “but a person who knew they were guilty, would use every piece of evidence off on someone else, like your girlfriend for example.” The detective wrote something down on his pad. “All I am trying to say here John, is that, I don’t want you to get too far ahead of yourself. Things aren’t quite adding up.”

I took Detective Jones advice. Maybe it was better if I just stayed out of this case. But I didn’t understand what Jones meant An innocent man would help a killer? A guilty man helps himself? I didn’t see the bigger picture.
 

It was 8:30 am at the Chicago Police Department. Mornings were always the busiest, especially for detectives like me.

“Good morning Gloria. Do you mind if I used the phone? I have to make an important phone call.” I asked the front desk manager.

“Of course.” she said cheerfully.

I swiftly typed the numbers into the old, dusty telephone.

“Hello! Thanks for calling the credit card union. How may I help you?”

“Hi this is Detective Jones of the Chicago Police Department. I was wondering if you could tell me Catrina Waters credit history as of February 2nd to now?”

I heard a few peaks of a computer in the background.

“Yes sure. It looks as if she has taken out a few dollars of her bank account here and there, but nothing extreme. Just about $45.”

I wrote the notes in my pad. “Ok, now can you look up the credit of John Peterson?” I waited patiently for a response.

“Now for John it looks as if he has taken out about a couple of thousands of dollars, in the last 2 months.” said the lady.

This was just as I had suspected. The only way Catrina could’ve been getting money out of John’s account, John had to give Catrina his social security number, In that case, John must’ve known what the money was for.

“Ok thank you.” I said.

“No problem.” and with that the lady hung up the phone.

I knew that John was guilty. All I needed was evidence to prove so. John was in for a surprise, that would change his life forever. The next call i made was to John. I pecked the number, and waited for him to answer.

“Hello.” John answered.

“Hello John, this is Detective Jones. We have found your sister’s killer, and I think you will be quite surprised.”

There was a pause in the background. “Great I will be there first thing in the morning.”

John hung up, and  had a feeling he wouldn’t be very happy in the morning.
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I woke up feeling happy and relieved. Today was the day that  got to find out the killer of my sister’s murder.

Once I arrived at the police department, Detective Jones was standing outside his office waiting for me. That was weird. Maybe he was just happy and anxious like I was to tell me my sister’s murder.

“Good morning Mr.Peterson! Pleases come in and have a seat.”

I quickly sat down in Jones’s office. Never was I so ready for this moment.

“We have some news for you Mr.Peterson, but I’m not sure how you’ll take it.”

I looked at the detective strangely, but I nodded my head, trying to understand where Jones was going with this.

“Yesterday when you called me and told me that Catrina had given money to Kathrine, I knew something was fishy, but I decided to take your word up for it.”

“Why wouldn’t you take my word up for it.” I said arrogantly, leaning back in my chair.

Detective Jones leaned forward grinning and smirking at me.  “I found it awfully strange when I called the credit card union yesterday.  And you want to know what they told me. They said that Catrina had only taken about $50 out her bank account.”

What? Was Jones really saying what I was thinking he was saying?

“Then I asked if the credit card union could look up  John Peterson. And you know what they said Mr.Peterson,” He grew a unbearable frown. “They said that a couple of thousands of dollars was missing from your account. Then I thought to myself, well, There's no way that Catrina could’ve gotten money from your account. She doesn't know your social security number, and only a fool would give her that. You're not a fool are you John?”

“Uh...no but detective I wasn’t taking money out of my account at the time.” I was trapped. I was placed in a deep hole I couldn’t get out of.

“So if you didn’t give Catrina your social security information, who else could’ve gotten into your bank account?” Jones looked at me with a curious look on his face. “Look I’m going to get straight to the point John. The text messages and phones aren’t quite fitting with me John, because there’s just not enough proof. But when I heard that that money was taken out of your bank account, that really just closed that deal.” Detective Jones grabbed his walkie talkie off his holster. “We’re going to need more back up in room 24.”

At this point I was terrified and worried.  Detective Jones believed that I was the killer of Kathrine Peterson, and there was longer anything I could do. “No please! I was framed. I never put a finger on Kathrine I swear! Please! You gotta believe me!”

Detective Jones shook his head. “And to think, I actually thought you were a pretty decent guy. Why would you kill your own sister?”

“I didn’t kill her!” I could no longer think. I got up and ran to the door. As soon as I twisted the doorknob, the door busted open with two police officers, standing on the opposite side. They grabbed my wrists, and forced a pair of flesh tearing handcuffs on them. “Please you can’t let them take me away! I was framed!”

“Tell that to your friends behind bars. I’m sure they’ll be thrilled to hear your story.”

I got up out my chair, and ran towards the door. I wasn’t guilty, and I didn’t deserve to go to jail.

As I opened the door, two large, and bulky police officers grabbed my arms. They took a pair of handcuffs, and forced the flesh cutting pieces of metal on my wrists. The more I resisted, the more the handcuffs clenched to my skin, ripping open my skin, and exposing blood. The police pulled me out of the room, and mocked me.

The was the last time I saw the light.

I was arrested, and convicted of first degree murder, with life without parole. It has now been two months since I have been sentenced guilty.

“Mr. Peterson, you have a guest.” The security guard said as he opened up the gate.

Once I reached the visitors center I saw Catrina sitting in a seat. I was angry and felt so betrayed.

“Hello John.” Catrina said as she looked me up and down. “You look good in orange.”

I stood up and felt like punching Catrina. “ Why would you do this to me? Why would you kill Kathrine?” I screamed, and banged the table. “Why?”

Catrina gave me a sly look, and laughed. “Let’s say I did. What are the police going to do now? You have already be sentenced to life, and the police have no evidence that I killed her.”

I walked around the table, and held a fist to Catrina. The guards quickly came and pulled me back.

Catrina won, and there was nothing I could do about it.